He's in the Kitchen-He's not Supposed to Be in the Kitchen
by UnlikelyValiantTiger
Summary: Bruce Cooks up a disaster that Dick captures on Snapchat and Instagram, Wally launches a food war with the team, and we all learn the meaning of no tear shampoo. A series of random moments in the lives of our favorite characters prove that Superheroes have issues too.
1. Chapter 1

After sneaking off in the middle of a stake-out to follow a lead that ended up getting him caught, Robin-now Dick, was grounded. Or more specifically-on house arrest. He was not allowed to leave Wayne Manor other than for school and mandatory events for the two weeks following the disastrous mission- heavy on the dis. As part of the grounding meant he couldn't go into the batcave, which meant he couldn't talk to any of his teammates, train, or work on any cases. The other part was that he had lost his phone for the time being.

However, a week into his prison sentence Dick had some saving grace in the form of Alfred who convinced Bruce to give the boy his phone back at breakfast, stating the lad may need to contact him in an emergency. Dick was overly exuberant to get his phone back from Bruce after 8 days without it. He couldn't wait and was up early that morning and ready for breakfast.

'It's been so boring around here. Not turbing. At least now I can text Wally to see what I've been missing, and maybe do some work on my own cases." The boy wonder thought to himself, his signature smirk finding its wat onto his face.

Noticing how it was almost time for breakfast, he bolted from his room. Dick made it to the stairs and was just about to slide down the banister before grinding to a stop at the top stair.

"Better not risk it. No need to tick Alfred off and get more time- or get my phone taken away again." He muttered.

Dick chose instead to walk down the stairs and into the lavished dining room. Sunlight poured in from the tall broad windows, bathing the usually dark room with golden rays. Bruce was already there- in his seat with the morning paper and nursing a cup of strong black coffee. He was already dressed for the day, a dark black suit with white shirt and gray tie, hair slicked back and brushed to perfection. He didn't glance at Dick as the boy slid into his normal seat to the right of the man. He could feel Dick's impatient gaze bore into him, and instead to glace at Alfred as he brought in their breakfast.

"Good morning Master Dick, your breakfast sirs." Alfred greeted, setting a plate of scrambled eggs, wheat toast, orange juice, and strawberries in front of both Dick and Bruce.

The food smelled amazing, and Dick hungrily dug in while keeping a discreet eye on Bruce the whole time. The man had yet to as much as peek in his direction and Dick couldn't help but feel like Bruce was hiding something from him.

A cough sounded in the otherwise silent room, "If I may sir," Alfred interrupted after a moment, "I will leave you two to go and pack for my impending trip

. 'Oh right, Alf's visit to his sister in England for the weekend. I forgot about that.' Dick thought to himself. He and Alfred had talked about it some three days ago. Alfred's sister was visiting their mother from another part of England and had informed Alfred that he must come for the little "family reunion".

"When will you be back?" Dick asked, stuffing another strawberry into his mouth.

"I shall be back late Sunday evening young master." Alfred replied warmly. "Do behave for master Bruce whilst I am away, won't you?"

"What? Me? I'll be fine Alf." Dick waved off, adding "I'll work on my science project some more and I'll have my phone back to keep me entertained." Oops. He hadn't planned on bringing it up before Bruce did but too late now. He peeked at Bruce to notice how the man had stilled once that statement registered.

"..Yes, quite." Alfred replied, his eyes on Bruce the entire time. "If you aren't in need of anything else sirs, I shall go pack." And with that, Alfred stepped from the room.

Turning his attention to his adopted father Dick watched as the man took another sip from his coffee before placing the newspaper down and turning to face him.

" Alright Dick," he started, " I know you are eager to get your phone back, but I want to make sure you know why I took it in the first place."

"I know, it's because I took off and got captured on patrol. I'm really sorry and it won't happen again. I learned my lesson." Dick rambled, finishing with a blinding smile, hoping for lenience.

Bruce stared at him a moment before sighing and pulling something out of him pants pocket. But before he handed the phone back to the boy, he fixed Dick with a stern glare. "You realize you are still grounded. This doesn't negate that just because you are getting your phone back-"

Dick cut off his impending speech by jumping up in his chair to snatch the phone from Bruce's grasp. "I got it B, I'm in trouble, still in prison, yadda yadda yadda." Dick commented absently, already undoing the passcode and going straight into his contracts. He couldn't wait to find out- only the contacts only had three numbers logged; Bruce's cell phone, work phone, and the home line. Not to mention he couldn't even open any texts. He stared up at Bruce, horrified.

Bruce was watching him, a ghost of a smile on his face as he watched Dick discover the changes he had made. "I locked your messages and phone privileges. They will be fully reinstated once you are no longer grounded," Pausing as Dick groaned. "You are only getting your phone back in case of emergency and not to start talking to everyone again."

"So I can't do anything with this. It's useless." Dick sulked in his chair, breakfast left abandoned. "Not exactly, you can still call me if there's an emergency. But if you were hoping to start talking to the team again you're going to have to wait."

Grumbling under his breath, Dick finished his breakfast and sulked back upstairs. Sighing, he flopped onto his bead and stared at the ceiling. 'Well now what? Can't call or text anyone." He glanced at his phone, 'but maybe...' quickly unlocking the device he found the desired app, tapping on the icon and holding his breath,

Dick watched the app open as if by magic. 'Ha! Thank stars Bruce isn't up to date on _other_ forms of communication. Mainly; snapchat. He quickly tapped on Wally's name. Dick was buzzing with excitement; was it really going to work? Quickly he looked around his room, deciding on the door before taking a picture and typing the message _still in prison. What's up_ before sending it. A minute passed with no reply. Did it not work? Had Bruce known and blocked the apps? Dick was just about to lose hope when his phone beeped. _Hey Bro, glad you're still alive!_ Yes! Dick's face broke out into a large grin; it actually worked! Then, a new message popped up, with a close up of what looked to be a question mark. _Dude, what's up with your phone?_ His phone buzzed again, with a close up of Wally's face. _I can't text you or nythn._ Mentally sighing, Dick tried to find the best way to explain his situation to his friend. _Phone hacked by bman no thru_ with a pouty face. Smirking, he sent the message.

They continued to snap for a few hours. The messages were brief, but at least he could talk to Wally again. Dick walked around the manor, snapping ridiculous things as he and the speedster tried to take more stupid pictures than the other did. Finally, Dick made his way downstairs. He was headed to the lounge when he heard pots being moved in the kitchen.

"what the?" changing paths, he followed the sound into the grand kitchen. Pristine marble floors, granite counter tops in a soothing gray, accented by the mahogany wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances. Noticing someone hunched over on the other side of the island, Dick slid over to see Bruce looking for something under the cabinets.

"Uhh, what're you doing?" Bruce looked up, staring at him a moment before answering, "I'm getting ready to make dinner."

Oh no. There is a reason Bruce isn't allowed in the kitchen. And there is certainly a reason as to why he NEVER cooks. Bruce can't cook. Whenever he tries, he ends up ruining the kitchen or worse. They have actually lost appliances when Bruce tries to cook.

Bruce must have read his thoughts, because he straightened to his full height and fixed his adopted son with a glare. "I can cook. And I know I've had my troubles in the past, but we'll be fine."

"You said that last time." Dick pointed out. "You said that the time before too, and the time before that-"

"Don't you have homework to do?" Bruce grumbled with a huff, crouching back down to rummage through the cabinet again, "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

And with that, the discussion was over. Dick knew, once the dark knight of Gotham set out to do something he was going to do it. Dick turned to walk out the room when a devious idea came to him. Sending a quick glance back to make sure Bruce wasn't watching, he quickly took a picture. _He's in the kitchen. He's not supposed to be in the kitchen_ sending it to Wally. At least if he dies from food poisoning, they'll know the cause, he thought.

Turning from the kitchen Dick slowly made his way back upstairs. He had just made it to the top of the stairs when he heard what could only be described as a heard of elephants trampling through a chimes shop while somebody blew up a nearby shop.

Dick slid down the banister and rushed back into the kitchen only to duck to the floor as a pot lid crashed into the wall where his head had been. Cautiously, he stood up and surveyed the damage; there was a pot lid stuck into the wall behind him and another crammed in the ceiling. But that was nothing compared to the stove. It was somehow sunken in, the metal caving into the oven, with a pot following the concave. There was a pan on fire on the backburner and some sort of brown liquid bubbling on the floor. The microwave was buzzing and the time only said end, and the fan was hanging on by a wire. In short, it looked like a bomb had gone off in the 3 minutes he was gone. Dumbfounded, Dick stared at the hot mess that had been the kitchen for a solid 30 seconds before slowly raising his phone and snapping a final picture. _This is why we can't have nice things._ A titter to his left drew his attention from the scene in front of him to his mentor who was dusting himself off as he picked himself up off the floor. Dick watched as Bruce surveyed the scene he caused with a tired face before turning to look at his adopted son. "…why don't we," he began, "-order something for tonight?"

Sunday morning found Dick munching on cereal as he flipped through a catalog of display kitchens, lazily browsing different countertops, finishes, and designs. He could just catch Bruce's voice in the other room, probably explaining to Alfred about how he managed to destroy the kitchen again while reheating an already prepared room. Dick smirked to himself; Alfred was particular about the kitchen and Bruce had already done this before. He certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Alfred's lectures. He man could make you feel like dirt with but a few words. He was brought back to reality as hid phone buzzed with a text from Wally. _Hey, you still alive_? Chuckling to himself, Dick took a picture of the catalog and sent a final snap; _onto kitchen number 3!_

A/N. So yeah, this idea came to me after a conversation with a friend of mine who isn't allowed to cook because she once destroyed the kitchen. Couple that with some fanon theories, I've read where Bruce can't cook and Alfred being kind of particular about the kitchen and you get this idea.

Also, in the end Bruce did unlock Dick's phone – that was meant to happen off-screen.

Let me know what you thought- anything that can improve or that you liked!


	2. Chapter 2

Honestly, at the rate he was going he's going to be grounded til he's 65. Bruce will still be around of course, as a shriveled old man, still bossing him around, or maybe as a ghost? He probably had some sort of contingency plan for that. Haunt him for the rest of his life. If not, diffidently as an old man. Clark had said before that Bruce was too stubborn to die. And he _is_ Batman, so he could probably could still find him if he tried to run off again-

Knock knock, "Master Dick?" came through the door, opening a moment later to reveal Alfred. "Are you alright young sir?"

"yepp." Dick replied without turning to face him. He was currently sprawled out on his bed in a star shape, bonelessly staring at the celling.

"I say, what are you doing?" Alfred asked, watching the lad not so much as blink as he stared at the ceiling. He could almost feel bad for the boy, but he disobeyed a direct order from an already overly rung-out Batman to simply watch the men on the docks while he patrolled the perimeter for anything suspicious. 4 minutes later the men were tied up and there was a shipping truck sinking into the water while being engrossed in flames. How the lad managed to sink a truck- while catching it _on fire_ and defeat the 5 men in the 4 minutes he was left unsupervised was beyond them. Needless to say, Robin was sent home and grounded.

Bruce had locked his phone again, of course. Guess he was really fond of doing that now. A little extreme, but Bruce was nothing if not absolute and a little (or a lot, depending on the day) paranoid. Still never found out about snapchat, thank heavens, but he was having trouble getting into the app. Stupid automatic updates! Phone can't update because of whatever locks Bruce put on there and snapchat can't update because the phone can't update, and it was all a mess. With a sigh, Dick tried to find something else to entertain himself with. He couldn't hack it with any of the software on his phone because Bruce would know and then he would be in more trouble. Snapchat was 'updating', Facebook 'why do I have this?' games all beat, Instagram? Surely, Bruce had to know about Instagram. After all, his company had one and everybody talked about it. He tapped on the icon and watched hopefully. A moment later and the app sprung to life. Dick jumped up "YES!" it actually worked. Huh.

Secretly giddy that he was pulling one over on the batman, Dick sat back down on his bed and opened the app. He looked through his followers for Barbra before noticing a new one from Wally. It was a picture of a TV screen, although he couldn't make out what was on. The caption filled him in, 'Dude I saw the news, what happened?'

'Ok, got grounded though, totally not my fault. B needs to stay whelmed.' With a picture of his ceiling, he sent the reply.

The message was a day old, he thought, so Walls may not see it right away. Plopping back down on his bed with a resigned sigh Dick considered what he could do in the meantime. Scrolling back through his followers, he thought about trying to get Barbra online before quickly dismissing the idea. He would have to explain why he was grounded. Besides, she was probably at gymnastics anyway. He had shown Connor and M'gann how to use Instagram the weekend before last, when the team was having a 'bonding' day at Mount Justice. They didn't grasp the concept too well, and it wasn't likely that they would be able to respond, not to mention they didn't know his secret I.D. so he can't just message them. Artemis still didn't know about his secret I.D. either, so she was out. Bette might respond, but she had told him last class how she was going out of town, so not likely he could catch her.

Dick was about to resign himself to being bored forever when he received a reply from Wally. 'you need to stop getting in trouble.' Followed by a picture of what looked to be a dirty old stop sign in the middle of a desert.

'where are you?' he commented. From what he could see it looked to be in the in the southwest portion deserts. Wally didn't typically go on runs past southern U.S. or north Mexico area, so he could be back incase of an incident. He was just narrowing down the list of possible places Wally could be when he heard a small beep from his phone.

'Dude that was your takeaway?' Well, ok then. Dick was just about to respond when there was another knock at his door.

"yeah?" he called, quickly closing the app and tucking it under his pillow.

Bruce poked his head in, "Alfred is about to go now, why don't you come down in a few minutes and we can get started on the cake."

"Why don't we just buy him a cake?"(You know, so he can actually eat it?") Dick mumbled the last part, but judging by the look on Bruce's face, he had probably heard him anyway.

"You know as well as I do that Alfred does not like store bought foods. He always makes them for us. And if we did get him a store bought cake he would insist on making one himself. And that is not the point of this." Bruce replied.

Dick sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want to make Alfred a cake. The man clearly deserved it and much more, but Bruce couldn't bake any better than he could cook. The reason they were making the cake in the first place was to celebrate the anniversary of when Alfred started working here with Bruce's parents and all. It was a nice gesture, but Alfred hated a dirty kitchen about as much as he hated the Joker and they weren't likely to make it out of the kitchen without some mess.

"We'll be fine." Bruce calmed him, "we'll just be extra careful and be sure to clean up as we go, I think Gotham's dynamic duo can manage." He finished with a smile, ducking out of the room.

After a moment, Dick reached back under the pillow and grabbed his phone, and headed downstairs. He could hear pots and pans banging together in the kitchen and slowed his pace. He walked in the room to find Bruce had already gathered supplies from the pantry. The counter already containing organized ingredients, placed next to each other like military men standing at attention. Several different size pans were stacked neatly inside each other on the opposite counter, and the oven was turned on to an already preset temperature.

Shuffling on his sock covered feet, Dick went to the island and pulled a small box out of one of the drawers. Alfred kept his recipes on hand and Dick flipped though the neatly written cards before settling on one for a vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.

"I already preheated the oven, we just need to mix everything together. What does the recipe call for?" Bruce asked, appearing behind him.

"We'll need olive oil, butter, two types of sugar, some flour," Dick started to read, as Bruce began to gather the ingredients and measure. The two talked as they worked, about everything non-sequential to serious. Within the hour, the cake was in the oven and the kitchen; well it wasn't as bad as Dick thought it might have been, but it would take them some time to get it spotless again.

They had just started to clean up when the Bat-alarm went off. Bruce quickly pulled out his phone, glaring at the screen, " I have to go." He muttered, already heading out the room.

"Wait!" Dick called, running after him. "What is it? What happened? Who di-"

Bruce turned to face him, holding up his hand. "You're grounded from Robin work right now. So you don't need to get worked up over this. If I need you to help, I'll call, otherwise just stay up here and clean up. I won't be long."

"You can at least tell me who it is." Dick grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Just because he was out of the game now, didn't mean he needed to be kept in the dark.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The report didn't say, all that's known is there was a break in at Ace Chemicals and whoever did it stole some hazardous materials."

"What kind of chemicals?" "We don't know yet, that's why I have to go now-"

The door opened at that moment to reveal Alfred walking back inside. "Master Bruce, the bat-symbol is up and... my heavens, where did this smoke come from?"

Smoke? Now that Dick looked around there was smoke in the air. Bruce and Dick shared a look; the cake! They turned to run back in the kitchen when there was a popping sound and a bang/splat!

Once the windows were opened, there was too much smoke to see otherwise, the three took stock of the damage. The smoke was coming from the oven, now off, and the "cake" was a charred black pseudo-liquid, with had somehow exploded out of the over, onto the counter, and the pan was now stuck to the wall, leaving a trail of black goo down the opposite wall. Dick turned to see Alfred's disapproval look boring into Bruce's head, with the dark knight glaring at the mess and the light in the sky.

"Master Bruce, a word." Alfred said, before turning to leave the room. Bruce dragged a hand down his face, before turning to slowly follow Alfred out of the room. Dick smirked to himself, before turning back to the mess of the kitchen and taking a quick photo. He opened Instagram one last time and found his conversation with Wally. Uploading the picture, he added a caption before posting.

'This is why we don't let him in the kitchen'

A/N : A bit all over the place, and I learned i'm not great at explaining social medias. But hopefully still good. This is for the guest who said there should be a chapter with Instagram. Thank you SOOOO much for the comments, follows, etc. It makes my day!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING. I HAVE NO EXCUSE IM SORRY I DIDN'T EXPECT PEOPLE TO ACTUALLY LIKE THIS?! So here is the third chapter of this fic. Anyway, as always I am still bad at explaining the social media constructs so bear with me. And I could not upload so this was copy-pasted so I apologize if any of the structure was compromised.

Timewise, this takes place a few days after the second chapter.

Friday had finally arrived. The sky was a clear blue and with that, the temperature had warmed Gotham to a perfect 80 degrees. Gotham was taking advantage of it too. There was a movie screening in the park, people were actually out walking around, and there were events taking place at the local museums for today as well. Overall, it was a great day to just kick off work and go out.

Naturally, this means Dick had to be dragged to Wayne Enterprise with Bruce to grab some extra reports that Bruce needed to look over this weekend. Wayne enterprise was recently awarded multiple contracts in their tech department and before anything could start, the plans had to be reviewed and approved by Bruce himself.

Dick sighed and slid further down in the backseat as his seatbelt would allow and glared at the buildings as they slid by. Why couldn't he just stay home? Alfred was there, it was Friday- which meant it was his last day of being grounded, so technically, he could do stuff now; like go outside. Besides, Bruce said this was going to be a 'short visit', but who knew what that meant? The man always seemed to get caught with late request and important notices before he left. Not to mention he was a workaholic. There was no way this visit to the office would be any shorter than an hour.

Resigning himself to his fate Dick pulled out his phone. He noticed the notification for snapchat, signaling someone had commented or something on one of his stories. Opening the app, he noticed the storyboard on Bruce's cooking was very popular. _Wait, I didn't make this private?_ A quick search of his setting showed that he did in fact, make them limited. _So how did other people see this? Oh wait,_ another search confirmed his thought; Wally had reposted it. His profile wasn't as guarded as Dick's was, ( _because if I put all of those privacy setting in, how will that cute girl from the movies find me? Well you did give her your number, and your username. Yeah, but how will she know it's me?)_ Dick rolled his eyes at the memory. Focusing back on his phone, he searched for how many times the story was viewed and reposted. His stomach did a quadruple summersault when he saw the number. _1.5 million times. 1.5 million. Oh my gosh people liked it?! And its everywhere. Other stories, recreations,_ Dick rapidly scrolled through pages of notes, heart hammering at the implications. Bruce wouldn't be happy. Although he maintained his playboy airhead appearance for the media, he had toned down the act considerably once Dick came along. And he drew the line at recklessness. "I don't want people to think that I can't take care of you, or that I would break valuables and can't be trusted on projects." Bruce once explained to a ten year old Dick after an interview for a star city paper. "It's one thing to be an airhead, people just think you won't put the pieces of what they're telling you together, so they'll complain to you, believing you won't understand. But if you're reckless they'll assume that you understand to some degree and just don't care, which would backfire on them, and they'll be more guarded." If Bruce found out, he'd be pissed that the media got to see him unguarded in the manor. Not to mention that Dick had been somehow online and disobeying his guardian's punishment. This was disastrous; heavy on the dis.

As that thought crossed Dick's mind he felt the car pull to a stop. Looking up he noticed they'd made it to the private garage for Wayne staff. Bruce turned from his seat and looked back at Dick, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Dick muttered, sliding from his seat.

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked, fixing him with a slightly concerned look as the two made their way to the elevator.

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking about stuff." Dick replied, following his guardian into the elevator. As they started their ascent another thought occurred to him. _Wait, Bruce doesn't know about snapchat, otherwise he would have blocked it in the first place! I'm fine._ He smirked to himself, _Maybe I should tell him, before somebody says something. Yeah. "_ Hey Bruce-" Dick started but was interrupted by the sound of a quiet ding and the elevator doors gliding open. Bruce stepped out and made his way passed the small lobby and his secretary's desk to the double doors of his private office, Dick trailing a step behind.

Lauri, Bruce's secretary, was sitting at her desk with head of security Rio and board member Chris Drayling. Upon seeing the billionaire and his son the three grew smiles that could rival the joker, and Dick felt his stomach drop for the second time that day. _This can't be good…_

"Bruce, pleasure to see you this morning," Drayling greeted, arm stretched out to Bruce.

"Good morning to you as well Mr. Drayling, What's going on?" Came the casual reply.

"Oh, just having copies sent of last meeting's memo retyped and sent to the head of departments. It was a real mess, although heh, I'm sure you know a lot about messes… in the kitchen." He finished with a chuckle.

The others trying to hide their smiles, and Dick suppressed his shocked expression the best he could.

…rriighht. Well, as long as I get a copy of both, just to make sure." Bruce carefully replied, staring at Drayling, trying to distinguish what he was implying.

"course, course. Well, I must get back take care Bruce," Drayling called, clapping Bruce on the shoulder before making his way to the door.

With one down the dynamic duo turned their attention on the two remaining individuals in the room. Clearing his throat Rio approached next, Lauri already back to typing the report. "Mr. Wayne, I've been meaning to speak to you about the new security software put in place on the tech and main floors."

"Of course, uhh, Dick, why don't you head into my office? I'll be there in a minute." Dick nodded enthusiastically and disappeared into the large expanse. He could hear the rumble of voices through the door as it shut behind him.

Releasing a sigh he didn't know he had been holding Dick slowly made his way deeper into the room. He settled into the plush chair across from the mahogany desk and thought about what just happened. _Ok, so apparently, the board knows or at least, one member knows. And I'll bet he tells the others if they haven't already. It's bound to come out sooner than later._ Then another though donned on him. _Oh man, people at school've probably seen it too! Uhhhhhhh._ Crumbling into his hands Dick started to think of solutions when the doors opened and in stepped Bruce. Letting the doors close behind him with a gentle thud he closed the distance between himself and the desk. Sliding into his seat across from the boy he quickly logged into the computer and began to type. It was quiet for a moment, neither one talked and the only sound to be heard was the clank of the keys. Finally Bruce spoke, not looking up from the screen

"Do you know what Drayling was talking about Dick?" The question wasn't interrogative, but Dick could feel his pulse speeding up.

"What makes you think I know?" Dick sputtered. _Stupid! Of course, you know and now he knows that you know something! Just tell him already!_

Bruce looked up at Dick, eyebrows furrowing together in that spill-young-man-I-know-you-know-something kinda way. Dick sighed and hung his head, it was now or never, and at this point he was looking at probably another day of complete and utter boredom. "Well, you see, it has someth-" Dick was cut off by the phone ringing. It stopped, and Lauri's voice filled the intercom. "Mr. Wayne, Vicky Vale from Gotham Gazette is on line one. She wants to talk to you about your recent social media success." The smile in her voice was evident, making Bruce frown further "I see." He muttered before answering the phone on speaker. "This is Bruce Wayne"

"Bruce! This is Vicky Vale, Gotham Gazette, we've met before," Came the confident voice through the phone.

"Of course, hello Ms, Vale."

'"oh please Bruce, its Vicky."

"Alright, what can I do you for Vicky?"

"I wanted to ask you a few questions about your recent rise to fame on snapchat and Instagram."

"My what?"

"Oh Bruce, don't play dumb; the stories from your ward, Dick Grayson, about your, ehhem, recent cooking experiences. The stories are huge! Millions of views and posting, what do you think of that? Was it staged? What about-"

"-I'm afraid I don't have a comment at this time, thanks." And with that, he hung up. For a moment nobody moved. Dick knew he was busted, and all he could think about was how he was so going to get Wally for this. _I'm thinking all his secret stashes are about to go missing…_

"Dick," Bruce began slowly, "what. Happened."

Sighing, he had been doing that a lot lately, Dick launched into the tale; being bored, posting, how it really wasn't his fault (stressed that one) and apologizing profusely. By the end, Bruce looked tired, and slightly amused.

"I think I need to see these videos, and we need to have a long talk about why you shouldn't do things to get you grounded in the first place." Bruce said with a small smile.

"Yeah, and maybe the meaning of cruel and unusual punishment too." Dick responded, with a bigge grin.

"Speaking of, you have to tell Alfred about this." Bruce quipped back, slightly larger smile starting to form. Dick's face morphed into a look of horror for a moment. Alfred was going to be pissed.

BREAK….LINE…..BREAK…..LINE….BREAK….LINE

Alfred was certainly not happy once he found out. Turns out he answered were several calls today from other newspapers wanting to find out more on the 'He's in the kitchen, he's not supposed to be in the kitchen' story. Still, he was quite amused to see the videos and all himself, much to Bruce's chagrin.

"I do believe Master Dick has a point Master Bruce," Alfred said as the three were lounging in the room of interest. Bruce was nursing a cup of coffee and dick was slurping on some tea.

"And what's that?" "Perhaps taking the young master's phone and locking it along with the grounding of 'other activities' was a bit much." Alfred pointed out.

"Heh, or maybe I should just take your phone next time." Bruce responded, smile in his voice.

"Or maybe you should just not lock my phone," Dick countered playfully.

"Yes master bruce, perhaps don't be so harsh on master dick, I do recall the days of a young lad once sneaking into his father's work car and following him into his work all the way into a surgical room and surprise him before surgery." Alfred reminded him. Bruce's face turned red. "Wait! Alf, you gotta tell me about that!" Dick laughed.

Oh I'm sure Master Bruce can tell you the tale, tomorrow morning." Alfred responded. Dick and Bruce shot each other a questioning glance. "What's tomorrow morning Alfred?" "Nothing much, just that you two will be in this kitchen at 8am sharp to begin your cooking lessons."

"Cooking lessons?"

"Why yes, Master Richard, cooking lessons for you and Master Bruce. I will not have the two of you incapable of providing for yourselves for the next time I regrettably have to leave town. And I certainly will not be returning to more destroyed kitchens."

Dick and Bruce shared another look. Cooking lessons with Alfred at 8 in the morning. Huh.

The next morning found Alfred shaking his head and leaving the kitchen, the sounds of laughter filling the open air as father and son launched into an all-out food fight in the kitchen. Cooking lessons were going to take a while.

A/N: THAT'S RIGHT ALFRED TEACH THOSE BOYS TO COOK!

thank you for everyone who read, commented, favorited, followed, etc this story. I have an epilogue planned, and you can tell me if you want me to continue with it. (it opens up for some new ideas, mostly just Dick dealing with Bruce being ridiculous other ways and other people being ridiculous.) Hope you all have a wonderful day!


	4. Epilogue

Hi, so yeah, here's the promised epilogue. It's not as long as the chapters preceding this, but that's ok.. I'm really shocked so many of you enjoy this story. It's been fun to expand on this idea. Hope you all enjoy, let me know if there is anything you want to see; I'll do my best to make it happen, and thank you for the continued support 3

To fill in any gaps: Dick and Bruce both had cooking lessons with Alred. Dick passed, he can now cook decently ie. The food is edible. Bruce, not so much… There are some things even Batman can't do.

In the comics, Aqualad takes Superboy and Miss Martian to Altantis with him. You don't need to know that for any reason other than that I mention two go back again. But just so you know I didn't pull that idea out of thin air.

Epilogue

…..

"So yeah, after Alfred made us clean up the mess, we still had to make the whole meal." Dick explained. He was sitting with Wally in the living area of MT. Justice, going over everything that had happened in the last few weeks. It felt good to be back, he hadn't seen the team in a while, not just because he was grounded, but everyone was getting busy with school, extracurricular, and spending time with their own mentors and cities. Dick and Bruce had been patrolling more too, Clayface had recently been seen in Gotham and the dynamic duo was on the case.

There was a light clanking sound from the room behind him that reminded Dick of his two remaining teammates in the mountain. Superboy had gone with Aqualad to visit altantis with him and wouldn't be back until later. That left them with M'gann and Artemis in the kitchen. The two were attempting to make some sort of dessert for a fundraiser for M'gann's cheer squad.

"Man, that sounds brutal." Wally answered, before shoving the rest of his sandwich in his face. "ddnd mvh hve to eah if twof?"

"No, once Alfred saw how Bruce's soup was a totally different color, he gave up. Saying atleast he was there to cook and I can pass for making something edible."

"whhaff'ya mnean if waz a diffrnt colof?"

"We were making tomato soup from scratch and somehow his turned out gray after we both followed the same recipe."

That made Wally choke on the rest of his food, sending him into a snuffling frenzy that left him gasping for air. He tried to chug his soda, only for it to end up going up his nose. Causing a high pitch squeal to come out his mouth. Dick couldn't help it, he started balling at the sight of Wally practically die on his food, which only made Wally laugh harder too.

Dick's laugh turned into a cough and so did Wally's. Dick looked up and for the first time noticed how the room was rapidly filling with smoke. Wally seemed to notice the same thing too, just as an ear splitting alarm filled the smoke-filled air. Twin screams soon joined the alarm.

The two quickly turn and look into the kitchen to see the oven in flames with Artemis attempting to put it out and M'gann off to the side doing her best not to pass out.

"Artemis, M'gann, MOVE! ROB, USE A PELLET AND PUT THAT OUT!" Wally yells at Dick. The girls quickly get clear of the area, M'gann holding onto Artemis for support as the move to the edge where the living area connects to the kitchen.

A moment passes but there was no ice block to replace the fiery oven pit. Wally turns to Dick to see what's his deal and stops at the sight of his best friend. Dick looked stunned. Dick stares, mouth open for five seconds before clicking his mouth shut. Under his glasses, he retracted his eyes into a dull stare. Seeing how Robin was not about to do anything about the smoldering fire now attempting to consume the kitchen Artemis bounded over the couch to where she had left him arrows and bow. Grabbing the right one, she drew back before releasing one to the center of the oven, and watched as it was quickly encased in ice as steam filled the room.

There was a pregnant pause as everyone sighed in relief that the worse was over before the boy wonder slid to his feet. He stared one last time at the mess of a kitchen, before turning and calmly walking out of the room, the zeta tube announcing his departure a moment later.

Wally huffed in annoyance, "what was Dick's deal?" he asks, turning to the two girls. Artemis huffed, "You're his best friend, figure it out." Turning, she led M'gann, who was still a little light headed from the heat, back into the kitchen to see what remained and the damage.

Wally grumbled to himself, trying to think of what could have made Dick act like that. As Robin, he had faced so much worse than a kitchen fire; heck, he's probably seen worse just from Bruce! So why did he freeze up? The whole kitchen could've been encased in flames and he was just staring at it as if he'd never seen a fire before. What, had Bruce never set anything in the kitchen on fire yet, was that it?

Determined to find out he found his phone where he had dropped it on the floor in the excitement, and quickly sent Dick a text, _Dude, what the hell?_ Wally looked back towards the kitchen, as Artemis attempted to comfort M'gann about their failed cooking fiasco. His phone vibrated softly in his hand, signaling Dick had text back. Looking back to his phone, Wally opened the text. All he got in response was,

"not this again."


	5. Chapter 5

GUESS WHO'S BACK?!

It's just me don't get too excited.

Anyway, I want to say thank you to everyone who read this story, favorited it, and/ or commented. There are no words for how happy I am to see that people are liking this and wanting me to continue. So thanks

(P.S I don't own the characters, just throwin' that out there.)

…..

Nightwing was having a tough week.

It all started on Monday night, where a new gang had started up in the area. Armed with some heavy firepower and at least double the men that other groups had, they were one of his main concerns. Bludhaven's protector was able to stop whatever shipment had been coming in but in the meantime almost all the goons got away, leaving him with lots of bruises.

The second night trickster showed up and tried to blow half the skyscrapers sky high. Dick ended up with dozens of cuts and a few burns.

Then, to top it all off, Thursday night was a reappearance of this new mafia group and, although Dick was ultimately more successful than the last time, he was unable to make it out of the fight without more bruises and a few grazing gunshot wounds.

Which brings us to Friday. It was Labor Day weekend and Dick was off, so he returned to Gotham to spend some time with his brothers and father and hopefully relax a bit. It was a long shot, seeing how the others were fine and Bruce wouldn't take it easy unless someone had beat him bloody, but he was hopeful.

Arriving at the manor, Dick was quickly ambushed by Alfred to check on his injuries as well as a delicious meal. Two hours after stepping back in his childhood home Dick found himself lounging in front of the monitors in the Bat-cave with a mug of tea in his hands.

Dick opened a recent file and began scanning its components, not absorbing anything on the screen. Taking a sip from his mug Dick closed his eyes for a second…

BEEP BEEP INCOMING MESSAGE rang out loudly as the file was replaced with a dark video box awaiting his answer. Coughing and wiping his shirt off from some lost tea Dick sat up in the large chair and clicked on the video.

It opened to a stone wall in the background _probably a dungeon of some kind,_ Dick snorted as he leaned closer. The camera suddenly spinned to another wall this time with a man chained to the wall. Clearly beaten and wearing a torn and battered suit, with dark blue eyes glaring into the camera and a gag in his mouth. _Bruce._ Dick glared at the monitor in front of him. Someone who could get the jump on Bruce and then contact the cave? This could only be a handful of people. The top of that list being...

Well if he was honest; Rash al ghul. But the second place would go to…

Deathstroke.

As if summoned by his thought the man walked into frame with chest puffed out and a smug grin visible under his mask.

"Slade." Dick growled his real name, "What do you want?"

"Tsk. Tsk. Why, Richard, do you ask questions that you already know the answer to? I have already proven that I am a better master than 'batman' could ever be. And I am willing to do what it takes to actually –"

"What do you want?" turning slightly to take a slow sip from his tea, Dick could see Deathstroke stiffen from the corner of his eye. He could also see Bruce in the background starting to examine the chains he was in.

"I want you to leave Batman, leave Gotham. Come be my apprentice."

"mh," taking another gulp from his now lukewarm tea Dick held up one finger to the monitor and two men before him in a 'hold on a second' gesture. " I want to talk to Bruce."

He could feel Deathstroke's anger from the screen as he stalked up to the camera. " You don't make the rules Richard. I do. And I will kill your precious mentor if you don't comply. Now, I w-"

"I want to talk to Bruce, we have some things to discuss." Dick stated again. Now fully staring at Deathstroke with a half bored expression. In the back Bruce had stilled, either having found his way of escape or indeed trapped. The assassin clinched his fist on screen and unclenched them again, clearly debating on what Dick had said. Taking the opportunity to distract the man some more Dick loudly slurped his tea once again, smirking into his glass as he caught both men flinching at the noise. Finally, Deathstroke conceded, "Fine." Marching over Bruce he ripped the gag from his mouth and stalking off camera. Bruce's eyes followed him a moment before refocusing on his son.

The two stared at each other a moment before Dick shifted, "You know, Alfred already started making dinner and I'm not covering for you if you're late."

Bruce blinked at him, "I'm a little tied up at the moment." He growled, then seemed to realize what he said as Dick burst out giggling.

A joke? Man you really are in trouble, Dick chuckled, " but seriously. How'd he get the jump on you? What, were you just in the office, standing to close to a window…"

"It's not important," Bruce cut him off, " You can't go with him; no matter what he says."

"enough games." Deathstroke reappeared in frame, Glraing down into the monitor at Dick. "What is your choice?"

Dick took another sip from his now cool tea, pausing for a breath. "…Alright."

"Alright?"

"I'll be your apprentice." Dick said.

"A wise choice, for you sake," Deathstroke added, throwing a smug look at Bruce.

"But…" Dick started," You have to do it the old fashion way."

"The old fashion way? What are you talking about." Deathstroke growled, shifting his weight and heightening his shoulders in anticipation.

"You have to ask my father for permission." Dick stated, as if it was obvious. "Before someone would become an apprentice, they used to ask the father for permission."

"I'm afraid I don't follow Richard, your father is dead."

Dick could feel his heart contract at that statement but brushed it off. " I have a new one," he said instead, smirking, "he's behind you."

Slade stared into the screen, eye wide at the realization of what was just said. There was an echoing of chains colliding with the stone floor and a growl of an angry Batman before the assassin found himself being thrown across the room.

Dick relaxed back into the chair, finishing off the remainder of his tea as he listened to the fight happen. Inspecting his mug of a suspicious looking speck before setting it down he leaned forward and typed a few commands on the computer, stretching as the fight died down and Bruce retuned to the screen.

He was bloodier than before and clearly still steaming from everything, but looking distinctly pleased with himself. He opened his mouth to say something- probably to lecture Dick about toying with someone as dangerous as Deathstroke the terminator, but stopped himself.

"the batplane is in route, ETA 3 minutes." Dick comented. Bruce grunted in approval, rubbing his writs from where the chains had been.

Dick slithered to his feet and stretched again. He was still sore from his fights earlier this week. Typing a short command on the computer to check the plane would arrive without issues and ensuring himself that his mentor would be fine he turned back to Bruce, "I was serious about Alfred. I'm not missing dessert for you."

Bruce's glare softened a bit, " The bat-jet just arrived, I'll make it."

"Doubt it, dinner's almost done. Where are you anyway?" Slade was particular about his lairs and this one looked rustic; reminding him of old dungeons in European castles.

His question was ignored, "I'll make it; I'm Batman." Bruce stated, before disappearing from view.

"Yeah, well if you're late I'm eating your cookie!" Dick yelled before quickly turning the computer off. Smiling to himself he grabbed his mug and made his way back up the stone stairs. He wasn't the only one now who was sore and having a tough week, but at least they could spend tomorrow recovering before patrol. Dick smile grew as he heard Alfred announce dinner was almost done and to wash up.

Guess he gets the cookie tonight.

A/N: This chapter did not want to be written. OK: I got this idea, and it was all planned out in my head one day and I made a note about it, but I couldn't write it because I had to go do stuff. So no big deal, I wrote it down and had planned it so well in my head, it would be fine another day right? WRONG. I came back and couldn't remember all the stuff I wanted. The ending killed me. I had a perfect one and I CAN'T REMEMBER IT :{ It's fine. The OG version had reverse batboys and more weirdness anyway. I hope you enjoyed. Any suggestions are welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

I like believing Bruce is a perfectly prepared superhero, and a bit of a bumbling hot-mess of a dad, (that Dick still loves).

ALSO: I saw this post online (I don't remember who made it, my apologies) about the situation in the story, so I did not come up with the crux of the story I just adapted it into Batman and Robin. Ok? Cool? Cool.

…..

Bruce tried to be a good parent. He really did. It was as if he thought doing something typically dad-like every once in a while like playing basketball or cooking dinner would somehow negate his absence at school functions or the oddness of their 'night activities'.

Today was another one of those I'm-trying-to-be-a-competent-parent moments as Bruce announced that he would pick Dick up after school. That job was normally reserved for Alfred since Gotham Academy and Wayne Industries were on opposite sides of the city. It was Friday, and Bruce was working from his home office today. And since Alfred would be working on the dinner menu for the upcoming Wayne Industries fundraiser, Bruce came to the well thought out conclusion that he would have to do it himself.

Bruce had memorized every aspect of Dick's schedule and activities, and he told himself that he could remember to pick up his son no problem. He even set an alarm clock out in front of his desk so he could monitor the time. At 30 minutes before he had to pick Dick up, he would finish what he was working on so he could be ready and out the door on time. Full-proof plan; impossible to mess up.

But Batman does the impossible every night, how would this be any different?

As it was, Dick was standing out by the gates of Gotham Academy watching as other kids hurried to their parents' cars or to buses, trying to dodge the torrential downpour as the sky dumped buckets onto the city.

He knew Bruce's cars and license plate numbers by heart (bat-training) and kept scanning the street as he was soaked through his school blazer. After the first 10 minutes since school ended, Dick was still waiting. _Considering how much it's raining and how unaccustomed Bruce is to picking me up, I guess he would be a little late_ _._ _I'm sure he'll be here soon,_ Dick thought. After 30 minutes he was worried something had happened and Batman had been needed. Dick checked all the news stations, event blogs, radio, and the police scanner _. Hmm, I couldn't find anything, but still. Why would Bruce be this late?_

Enough was enough. If Batman had gone out, the Alfred would at least be back and helping in any way he could, that much he knew. If not, Alfred would still be back and then he could go home.

Dick turned back towards the building and took a seat on one of the benches under the awning. Fishing through his contacts Dick dialed the manor and waited, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his unused arm around his midsection. It rang twice before Alfred's professional voice carried over the line.

"Wayne Manor, to whom am I speaking with?"

Dick smiled, "h-hey Alfred, is Bruce there?" he asked.

Alfred was quiet for a moment before asking, surprised "Oh Master Richard, why yes of course let me fetch him now. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just waiting… at school… for… Bruce."

There was a sigh on the other line, before Alfred muttered something Dick didn't catch. The phone beeped once before Bruce's slightly exasperated voice carried through, "hello?"

 _Oh for the love of justice_ , "hey, it's me, did you forget to pick me up? Where are you? I'm soaked, and everyone's gone" Dick waved his hand around to the empty courtyard, even though it went unnoticed over the phone.

There was rustling and shuffling static noises over the phone as Bruce's hurried words came back, "I'm on my way Dick, just stay inside. Traffic is slow from all this rain. I'll be there soon."

Dick inhaled sharply before staring off across the yard. Exhaling forcefully, he rubbed his temple, "Bruce I called the manor. Not your cell."

In his hear Dick heard the line go silent. _He did not just hang up one me, oh, he's dead._ Then Bruce's voice answered, "I'm coming." Before Dick could reply, the dial tone was ringing in his ear.

Bonelessly collapsing on the bench Dick let out a load groan, coming to terms with another half an hour wait in the rain. There was one good thing about this though, Bruce had told him to always use his time wisely and to prepare ahead. Dick was going to put those skills to work. 30 minutes was plenty of time.

Plenty of time to come up with his revenge on Bruce for this.


	7. Chapter 7

…..

The cold food war.

One of the worst battles the Team had seen in ages.

When recounting how it began, they could only say one name; Wally.

Wally would eat almost anything; almost.

The issue started when the human equivalent of a vacuum began to eat more than just his food.

Wally would eat his food, his uncle's stash, the team's food, their mentor's food, un-edible arrangements, stale food, food-that's-still-technically-edible-but-why-would-you-eat-this?-food, and emergency packs. It was sort of amazing; and disgusting.

What was more amazing was when any member of their group discovered a food Wally wouldn't eat.

It started on a normal chill day at the mountain. M'gann was trying out a recipe she had found online while Connor watched the news with Kaldur and Artemis read a book. Robin was grounded for something, nobody was sure what, and wouldn't be back for a while.

Wally dashed into the kitchen and seductively asks, "What's cookin' good lookin'?" She used the tongs to pull out some boiling asparagus and started to answer. But before she could get a single syllable out Wally squeaked and disappeared, leaving her alone in the kitchen to everyone's awe.

This was the start of the war.

Whenever the team discovered a food Wally wouldn't touch, they would make a note of it immediately. There was now a slowly growing list of foods Wally wouldn't touch.

If Wally was ever insufferable to someone, the Team would fill the mountain with a food he wouldn't eat. Touch Artemis' arrows? Bam: steamed asparagus for dinner. Mess with Connor's bike? Bam: clam chowder in all the cabinets.

It was sweet revenge, watching Wally whine about the food choices or open a cabinet and shriek at its contents.

But it didn't last.

The issue with this plan of attack came quickly to their realization. See, the Team didn't exactly like these foods either.

And now, the mountain was stuffed with Brussel sprouts, clam chowder, asparagus, liver, and marmite.

UGhh.

Any decent food that was brought in was horded, and alliances were struck. Armories were put in place and raids began soon after. But this wasn't the end. Oh no, it was time for phase two.

Wally decided to prank them back; and he knew just how to do it.

You see, he was the least picky member of the team.

So Wally, taking it upon himself to clean out the cabinets, pantry, and fridge and replaced it with foods he knew the team didn't like, but he did or would eat. See how they like it.

Kaldur would walk into the kitchen to see Wally eating chicken nuggets, only they weren't chicken nuggets. Kaldur found this out the hard way when Wally loudly announced he 'had to try these' and stuffed one in his mouth and refused to let go until he had tasted it.

It was a fish stick. A _soggy, slimy, fish stick._

Kaldur was so appalled, he swam back to Atlantis full speed, not seen for the rest of the week.

(One down, three to go.)

Artemis had a deep infuriating hatred for Tuna fish. So when on a stake-out and Wally unpacked his usual mid-stakeout-snack, Artemis nearly fell out the tree from the pungent smell alone. Wally made a special effort to chew loudly and get as close to her as possible.

The black eye Wally got from it was worth it.

(Two down, two to go.)

M'gann was an easy target.

She despised Gelatin (nobody knew why.)

And it was quite a shock to return from school one Friday afternoon to see her room ENCASED IN JELLO. She flew into the kitchen to discover the fridge, cabinets, and pantry filled with the substance. She released an unhuman squeal of sorts, turned purple, and flew into the zeta tube and away.

(One target left.)

Superboy turned out to be the hardest of them all.

He just wasn't bothered by much of anything.

Wally had seen Connor eat almost anything too; he would eat the clam chowder, asparagus, and jello. He didn't seem to have a favorite food or a hated one, so pranking him would be tough.

It was within the second week of this prank war that he finally figured out his way of attack.

Robin had told him that Superman hated pea soup once, after a hilarious incident with the dish at a fundraiser and scream so loud the cops showed up thinking someone was being murdered.

If Wally spinned this right, he would win this war by dinner.

When Connor returned from school that afternoon, he was hit with a repulsive pungent smell.

Dropping his book bag, he followed the smell into the kitchen where two large pots were stewing on the stove, inside a mucky green and brown liquid.

It looked as if someone was cooking – ughh – not going there, or he would be adding to it. He needed answers.

Quickly going to his room, Connor was horrified to see the room was plastered in the stuff! What was this stuff? Had something happened to wolf? Was there an intruder? Why was someone cooking this and getting it everywhere?! Where was everyone?! Dashing back to the back door of the cave he found his bike and jumped on, he put on his helmet –

… Filled with pea soup.

…

The battle was messy and in the end, no side really won.

But Wally lost the most, because Superboy went on a rampage after the pea soup incident and he had to clean up the mountain. Red Tornado called in their mentors, rules were put in place, and by the end of the two week cold food war; they agreed to never speak of it again.

Robin came back the following Monday, and couldn't get an answer out of anyone as to why there was a list of banned foods hanging on the fridge or why the manor smelled of a weird combination of jello and pea soup.


	8. Chapter 8

Nightwing was a well-known hero, one of the best. He was the first ever sideki- partner, to a full-fledged hero, and one of the founding members of the covert team made up of new protégés. He was a brilliant detective like Batman and was possibly the best acrobat in the world. He had the trust of all heroes and the respect of some villains as well. And at only 19 years of age, he already had a decade of experience under his belt. What many capes and civilians questioned; to both themselves and others, was how this seasoned crime fighter got started, and why. This was the questioned that Bart Allen, Impulse, voiced one faithful day to Robin.

"Go ask him."

Bart did, and the response was… bewildering.

"I needed a hobby."

…

…

….ok, then.

The next time the question was asked (this time by Wonder girl) the response was even more unexpected. It was after a mid-day training session and the team was heading off to the showers. Carrie, still sweaty, bounded over to where Nightwing was closing down the training system. After hearing what Bart claimed was his response (he received quite a few snorts and unimpressed looks) she decided to ask herself.

"It seemed like a good way to do some family bonding."

Nightwing didn't look up as he answered, and because of that, he missed her astonished face to his response. Without even glancing in her direction from his now completed work the grown boy wonder turned and left down a side hallway, leaving Wonder girl behind, more confused than ever.

*************Breakline***************

It became something of an inside joke; even the league was involved. Anyone who asked Nightwing for the thrilling tail of his debut into the life of crime (fighting), his response would change.

Black Canary pulled Nightwing aside one day to ask, after the insufferable whining from the team to get the real answer. His response,

"When I was 5, I told Batman there were monsters under my bed. He said they were in Arkham and started giving me files to read."

Superman followed up a week later. Nightwing was in the watchtower picking up a report for Batman and called to him from his place in front of the Zeda Tubes.

"I had to follow a parent figure around for school career day. You can see what happened from there. "

And the "answers" continued.

"I was learning different acrobatic techniques and ninja stealth, and it's recommended that you practice every day. How else was I supposed to do it?"

"Batman took me along with him crime fighting when he couldn't get a babysitter one night and we've kept it up since."

"Required due to bat paranoia."

"You have your exercise regimen, I have mine."

The list went on. Batman was no help either. If (you managed to work up the courage to interrupt whatever he was doing and) asked, Batman would merely glare at the asker a little darker than normal and go back to whatever he was doing (or give you the ultimate Bat-glare and shame you back to whatever hole you crawled out of to bother him).

Robin was no help either, in fact, he seemed just as confused as his teammates. Tim knew, of course, all about the first Robin from his days as their neighbor (and borderline stalker fanboy), but the matter of why he started and how he managed to convince Batman of all heroes to train him wasn't something that was discussed.

Tim asked when he, Nightwing, and Batman were getting ready for special joint patrol. Batman and his first child shared a guarded look before Batman started off for the batcomputer and Nightwing sighed. "It's… personal. I mean…" he faltered, looking around as if the answer was hidden somewhere around them. "you don't really.. ask a hero that." He said quietly.

"why not?" Tim pressed on, "I already know it had to do with... your parents," he dropped his tone for a moment, then looking Nightwing in his eye, he continued. "Why don't you want to tell anyone? We know why and how Bruce started, and Clark, and Diana. People are amazed by their beginnings, and it helps to understand them more, I mean," he cast a small smile towards Bruce, "it really helps with some. So, why not you? How did you convince Batman to take you as his protégé? And I promise," he said quickly," not to tell the others if you don't want me to."

"It… you really want to know?"

Tim nodded quickly.

There was a pause and a long sigh.

"it's because…I wanted to."

Tim stared at him.

"yepp." Nightwing popped the last syllable, "everyone seems to think I gave Batman a choice in the matter." He chuckled as the man in questioned joined them. "but I didn't." He then turned with Batman to head off toward the Batmobile and bikes with a stunned Tim following behind. As Nightwing settled on his bike and Batman started the batmobile, Nightwing said one last thing on the subject. "To quote an old friend on the matter, I told Batman to get on board, or get out of the way."

A/N: The mystery of Nightwing's reason for beginning will remain with Batman and his parents.

I think that the reason Dick started and how he warmed his way into Bruce's life and heart would be something he would share, but when he was ready and with certain people. He would tell Tim, no doubt, but not while everyone was bugging for the answer. It's a special reason, for any hero. And I wanted to get that across (how'd I do?) Also, I think Dick saying he stared fighting crime because he wanted to start fighting crime is an answer he would give. Especially since it's kinda true.

Anyway, thank you to all who have stayed with this story, and thank you for the support!


	9. Chapter 9

It was a quiet afternoon in the Watchtower. The earth moved lazily out the large tinted windows of the main area. Inside at the consoles Nightwing and Batman sat side by side working on case reports. The room was warm and filled with the murmur of keys.

Wally dressed as the Flash sped into the room shattering the peaceful atmosphere. He was wearing a smile so tight you would have thought he'd been hit with Joker gas.

He stopped by Nightwing who was still focused on report and pretending to ignore Wally's theatrical display.

Leaning against the console, he waited for Nightwing to speak.

After 17 seconds, he did. "What put you in a good mood today?"

"I was hangin' out with Bart and showing him weird stuff from this time and his reactions were priceless. I took him to Target and he was-"Wally broke off with a loud giggle, "he was trying to smell this fruity kids' no tear shampoo and it wouldn't come out. Well he..." another snort "he, ended up squirting half the bottle in his face because he was squeezing so hard. His face looked like it was covered in bubble gum! Then he slipped in the stuff trying to run to a bathroom and body flopped on the floor! And let me tell ya, it wasn't no tear anymore, ha!"

Nightwing shook his head at the image but Batman drew his eyebrows under the cowl.

"Anyway, I came to get a few of my souvenirs to show him, but I thought you'd get a kick outta that." Without another word, he sped off to another level of the watchtower.

Once he was gone, Nightwing turned to the man beside him, who was still working on his report.

"Man, Wally amazes me sometimes. Of course it wouldn't be 'no tear' shampoo if you squirt it in your eyes." Chuckling to himself the first boy wonder turned back to his unfinished report. But Batman had stopped his at that comment and turned slowly to stare at Nightwing with a bewildered look.

"Nightwing," he began slowly, catching the other man's look, "it means no _tears_ , as in you won't rip your hair out, not that you won't cry."

It was Nightwing's turn to look confused. "I always thought- I mean, it's made for kids so I thought it meant they wouldn't cry if some of the soap did get in their eyes. He paused for a moment before wailing, "MY WHOLE LIFE IS A LLLLIIIEEEEE"

Batman narrowed his eyes disapprovingly as Nightwing became melodramatic over this 'world ending' news, ranting about how the English language was messed up and how this was why he broke off prefixes and suffixes, because English did. Not. Make. Sense. He turned back to the report just as Nightwing finished his rant and loudly announced he had to go tell Wally.

Sometimes, it's better to leave things unsaid.


	10. Chapter 10

Kids say the darnest things…

A/N: I messed with the ages for the sake of the punchline. Based on a true-ish encounter I had a year or so ago.

…..

"You need to talk to him."

Clark, now Superman swallowed a sigh to Flash's comment. It was a never ending…. Well it wasn't an argument really, but it was an ongoing conversation (that he wished would end). It had been 5 months since the sidekicks had gone off on their crusade and unintentionally rescued… his clone. Clark still hadn't really accepted that, let alone sit down and talk to…him.

It was difficult. Everyone wanted him to act welcoming to a _clone_ of himself. A _clone_ that was _created_ and _brainwashed_ by CADMUS to replace him and everyone wanted him to act as if everything was _normal_.

Flash shifted next to him. "He's not a bad kid, really. And Wally says he's been getting along well with M'gann and even Robin."

That was an interesting tidbit. Batman was fiercely protective of his kid, and nearly had an aneurism when he, Aqua man, and Flash had returned to find their protégés missing. Not that Clark could blame him. Robin was the youngest by several years and had a habit of getting distracted by almost anything.

"I will talk to him, I just"- The automatic door to west wing saved Clark from an excuse. Wally, dressed in costume and Artemis walked through, clearly bickering. Superman and Flash turned to give them a warm smile. "Hey guys, what are you up to?"

Both apprentices immediately clicked their jaws shut. Wally leveled a glare at him and Artemis scowled, crinkling her nose like he was a bad smell.

"Oh, so you'll talk to us?" She snapped.

Superman leaned back eyes wide. He guessed the other protégés would be a little mad at how things were between him and Superboy, but not this caustic.

The two still glaring, walked swiftly out the room.

"Geez," Clark murmured.

"See? Now they're mad at you." Flash added, "Talk. To. Him. You two will hit it off, I'm sure. You do have a lot in common."

Clark was about to scowl at that last part when a cold voice spoke, "Flash is correct."

Both heroes whipped around to see Batman at a third monitor to their lefts.

"When did you get here?" Flashed gasped; a bit shocked but expecting something like this. (When do you _ever_ hear Batman?)

Batman ignored the question in favor of pinning Superman with a glare, "it appears that the children are all attached to each other at this point." Batman leaned forward, looking into Clark's very soul. "Including Robin, who is currently distressed at Connor's mood after you ignored him on the bridge." Batman's teeth clenched as he went on, "So you will talk to with Connor, before anything gets out of hand."

Clark could feel his insides freezing up from Batman's icy glare when Robin entered the room. "Hi Superman, Hi Flash," he chirped as he immediately claimed his place at Batman's side.

"hi buddy," Clark cooed, the catching Batman's eye, clearly stating he wasn't done lecturing him, asked, "uhh, could you grab me a drink real quick while I finish up with Batman?"

"sure!" Robin ran from the room, glad to be of use.

"Look," Superman started, cutting off whatever Batman was going to say. "I know you want me to talk to him and I get that it bothers the kids," he added testily, " but you need to understand how weird this is for me-" He was cut off as a light green glass cup was pushed in front of his face.

"here you go!" Robin said with sweet smile on his face.

"Thanks, Robin." Superman took a large gulp of the water. Immediately the room tilted and blurred. Coughing, the room began to dim, pixelating as he fell from his chair, dropping the glass and sputtering.

"what happened?" Batman barked from his left, pulling Clark back into the chair.

Clark pushed his hair from his sweaty face. The room was coming back into focus, but he felt drained. Batman was in front of him and Flash standing nervously to the side, hands on Robin's shoulders. Batman was studying him then the ground. His eyes widened and he turned, "Dick! What did you do?"

He looked down at the glass, he felt his heart contract. The green water on the ground and clear glass shards pained a clear picture.

"Dick?" He asked quietly, looking at the 8 year old. The little boy stood watching the exchange with a blank mask. "Yes?"

"Wha-what was that?"

"Kryptonite dust in your water."

The heroes all looked at the boy thunderstuck. Robin shifted his weight and refused to meet their eyes.

"Why Dick? That could have killed me!" Superman demanded, wondering how the kid could have done something like this. Dick loved him, was a sweet kid, and knew better than to play with something like this.

That got Robin to look up, he stared at Superman for a second before pouting, "It wouldn't kill you," he desperately started to explain, "I measured it out for your body mass you put in the league profiles and the displacement by the water ions. I even used less than I was going to originally because I saw that Batman was already lecturing you. (I should've done it for your real weight.) he muttered.

Superman just couldn't get over Robin of all kids doing this. By the looks on Flash's face and – well Batman didn't look surprised, but he didn't look stoic – he guessed they couldn't either.

"m'sorry," Robin said at last, giving Clark an apologetic look, " I just wanted to make you suffer for making Connor suffer." He lunged forward and hugged Superman.

Wrapping an arm around Robin Clark sighed, "I'll talk to him, OK? You win. Just, give it some time, OK? Nothing's gonna be fixed right away."

Clark knew that he'd eventually have to talk to the clo- to Connor, but he couldn't have imagined that it would be the tiny bird in his arms poisoning him that would make him do it.

Maybe the kid wouldn't be bad, after all, Robin seemed to approve of him.

"But you're grounded, Robin." Batman growled, "Stealing Kryptonite powder from the vault is serious. That is only to be used in an emergency."

Robin turned from his position in Superman's lap, cocking his head at Batman's statement. "I didn't steal the powder from there. I asked Lex Luthor for some to make Superman suffer, and he gave it to me."

….

….

…

WHAT?!

A/N: I have been volunteering at my church youth group of a few years now and true story, I had one of the sweetest, quietest kids come up to me and tell me something similar to this. He wanted to make me unhappy so that he could make me happy. I don't know.

I also had a group of twins who, for some reason, didn't realize they had the same birthday.

Twin 1: my birthday is next week!

Twin 2: no way so is mine! Wow it's the same day!

Me: guys… you have the same birthday… because you're twins….

(They didn't get it.)


	11. Chapter 11

The Nightwing: Bluebird of Gotham

A/N: Please read in your best documentary voice.

The Nightwing; a social type of high flying bird, is often found in the bellows of Gotham and her sister city, bludhaven. The Nightwing is a social creature, and often keeps the company of bats. They will nest with them since their fledgling days and will continue to keep in contract with bats in their later years. As fledglings, nighwings resemble the young robin, with a flush coat ranging in colors of red, green, yellow, and black or with light blues. They are cheery creatures but do have low periods and seek comfort of their nest mates or with the batman.

Unlike their counterparts the bats, nightwings coats are jet black with a magnificent strip of royal blue across their chest. Some species have the stripe down their arms and on their hips and legs as well. During their adolescents and transition from the nest, the Nightwing may dawn a festive coat of bright colors ranging from blue-ish yellow and some black to a head of long hair. This stage if referred to as the disco stage, since it mocks the now out of fashion ways of the sixties to eighties. It appears to do this to distance itself from the bats however, the scheme is quickly discarded due as it is ridiculous and from there it transitions to the classic blue and black.

Nightwings have a higher stupidity tolerance, often found around other species such as speedsters and lanterns that bats often find infuriating. However, when nighwings snap the bite is often much worst then the batmans is. Proceed with caution.


End file.
